


Sore Feet

by equilateral_asshat



Category: Gravity Falls
Genre: Archived From My Tumblr, F/M, before they get together, no sex-just foot rubs, pinecest - Freeform, pinescest - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-14
Updated: 2018-12-14
Packaged: 2019-09-17 20:51:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,005
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16981596
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/equilateral_asshat/pseuds/equilateral_asshat





	Sore Feet

Dipper knew as soon as he saw her walking towards the van with a hitch in her step, duffel bag slung haphazardly over her shoulder, that Mabel’s feet hurt. He wasn’t very surprised, if he was going to be honest with himself; the ballet recital coming up had her at practice every night for the last week, certainly her feet had to be killing her. His twin sister had a knack for everything dance, song, and art, so she was probably pushing herself harder than she actually needed to. _Wait, why am I just sitting here then?_

He hopped out of the old beat up vehicle and jogged up to meet her halfway between building and transport. He held out his hand without a word, and she reached out and gripped it with her own. He felt the tips of his ears and nose burn as they most likely tinged with redness. She smiled up at him in appreciation and gave a squeeze around his fingers before he cleared his throat. “I was trying to take your bag so you don’t have to put more weight on your feet?” He was certain, in that moment, that she turned a little red and nodded as she slid the strap off her shoulder with a hiss of both pain and relief.

“Oh, uh, of course ya were, broseph, hehe. Sorry all my brain can process is feet-equal-ouch,” she groaned as he shouldered her duffel bag, then turned and grabbed her wrist, looping it over his shoulders. “Uh bro-bro what’re you-” she started, then squeaked as he heaved her up in a surprisingly strong grip, one arm crossed behind her shoulders and the other in the crook of her knee. She stared at his face, and noticed his face was red with effort.

Or, at least, he hoped she thought it was effort. Okay maybe some of it was, he wasn’t the strongest guy out there. “If you’re hurting that bad I can haul you this far,” he mumbled, plodding over to the passenger door of the big, beat up rust-bucket they shared. She nodded in silent agreement, opening the door for him before he set her down right next to the van. As soon as her feet touched the ground, she winced, and sucked a sharp breath in through clenched teeth. He stared at her in concern, but she waved him off.

“N-no pain, no gain right?” she managed to weakly laugh as he chucked her bag into the backseat. He just frowned at her, one hand taking hers again, the other placing just above the upper edge of her tutu to help her hop up into the van. “Oof, for all this pain I better have all the gains.”

The drive home was a peaceful affair for both of the Pines. She babbled on about the stuff that was happening in ballet class with both the dances and how she got to help design the sets and costumes, and when he spoke it was about some new scientific theory he’d started studying and the like. Despite their glaring differences, they always gladly listened to what the other had to say. _Maybe that’s why I started feeling this way,_ Dipper mused while his sister wiggled in the seat, arms waving in a grandiose fashion as she explained a step of the routine they’d been practicing today.

Earlier in the year, Dipper’s brotherly love for his sister had started to grow. _Maybe mutate is a better word for that_ , he mumbled in his own head, trying to fight a wistful sigh. When they hit the age of sixteen and puberty had taken a deep hold of both of them, he’d quickly noticed how all of his sister’s cute features were becoming lovely, gorgeous even. The sparkle in those honey-brown eyes of hers, the way her hair shimmered like the surface of a créme brulee. And when she’d finally gotten her braces off, the way she beamed when she smiled, it nearly wrenched his heart in two. _I’m in love with the most beautiful person in the world and I can never have her._

“Hey, hey Dipdop, what’s with the frown? This van is strictly a no Frown-town zone, remember?” his sister half-shouted, poking his cheek from across the vehicle. He chuckled and shook his head, shrugging. He could tell by the look of concern on her face that she knew something was up, that his brain was “goin’ all janky and dumb” as she would have put it. But this? He couldn’t tell her about this.

“Just, lost in thought is all I guess,” he replied in a flat, dry tone. He’d tried to sound more genuine, but when he knew that hadn’t worked he caught her gaze with his own, noting her furrowed brow and concerned pout. “Honest, Mabes. Just a ball of stupid thoughts that keeps crashing through my brain and sticking to all the good thoughts like some sort of Katamari.” At that she hummed the theme to the game in question, making him laugh enough for his concerns to flutter off for the moment. “It’ll pass sis, don’t get too worried about it. especially since for right now,” he stated, turning into the driveway of their home, “We need to worry about getting you inside.”

“No, no, I think I can walk fine now,” she fibbed as she swiveled out of the van and planted her feet in the driveway, immediately whimpering as she put her weight down. Before she could take another step Dipper was right there, catching her off guard as he once again swept her off of her feet. “Ack! Hey, stop being such a loving and endearing poophead, bro face!” she mock protested as he shuffled his way up their porch steps and to their door. His hand squirmed through his pocket for his house key, making him wobble for a second or two. She grunted in protest and started to wiggle her way out of his arms but the grip on her legs tightened, just as he managed to swing the door open. He walked straight into their living room, gently setting her on the couch.

“There, you rest, I’m gonna grab your bag,” he instructed. She huffed a sigh and nodded, sprawling out along the couch sideways. She lifted one leg, fingers popping her out of her shoe before using her nimble toes to help dislodge the other, pushing both shoes under the nearby coffee table. _Oh how sweet it is to let my piggies wiggle again,_ she sang in her head as she let her naked toes spread and clench, trying to work the tension out of them as she heard her brother close the van door outside. It was her turn to blush as she thought about how the last twenty minutes had unfolded.

He had swept her up in his arms, twice! He even carried her across the threshold, like they had just gotten married. _Oh man, Mabel-Grabel, as if_ , she thought with a wistful sigh. _There’s no hope for Dipper feeling like that about you, you’re his sister and he uses that big dumb-smart brain of his too much. He’d have a list of reasons it could never happen_. She groaned, grabbing a nearby pillow from the arm of the couch and flopping it over her face.

She, much like her brother, had developed some awkward, squirmy feelings while puberty lanced through their lives. She’d filled out nicely, and was quite the looker if she said so herself. But Dipper? His shoulders had broadened, and his chest filled out with just enough definition to hint at pecs. Once upon a time he’d panicked with the idea of never growing facial hair, but now his strong jawline was frosted over with stubble. And sure, his noodly arms hadn’t gone full muscleman but they now had this sort of wiry strength that was deceptive, and he’d just hauled her around twice in the same hour with them, and those _hands_. Sure, his hands were rough and calloused but they were strong and gentle at the same time. Feeling them rub her shoulders or squeeze her own hand gave her the collywobbles. _UGH, no fair! Do all girls with hot brothers deal with this?!_

She was startled out of this chain of thought by the sound of her bag flopping at the end of the couch before her brother’s footsteps tromped into the kitchen. She straightened herself up, one hand smoothing her hair out as she sat up and rested her feet on the coffee table. “Looks like mom and dad are both out late tonight,” he called from the other room. “We doing pizza or chinese tonight?”

“Pizza, plleeeaaaasse,” she moaned out, sounding half dead as her stomach loudly grumbled in agreement. “I know, Mabel belly, I told him,” she giggled out, poking her midsection through the pastel pink fabric of her leotard. She then just laid back, relaxing quietly as she listened to him mutter into the phone, then stumble his way over to the couch to flop down beside her.

“So, recital’s next week, you think you’re ready?” he asked after a minute or two of comfortable silence. She groaned and squirmed in her seat, dragging her fingers through her long flowing hair.

“Uuuugggghhhh, no I never will be Dipper. You know how this works, I’m the same way about plays and ballets as you are with science fair stuff!” He playfully scoffed at the comparison, waving at her dismissively.

“Yeah well I hardly think that’s a fair comparison, sister mine, since your plays and dances never have the risk of burning down the gymnasium at school.”

“Maybe, but if you didn’t try to make a miniature fusion reactor last year it wouldn’t have been an issue,” she teased back, blowing a raspberry at him. He snorted, disguising the laugh as a sound of derision unsuccessfully before she leaned in to poke ticklishly at his side. He squeaked a rather undignified squeak, batting at her barrage of pokes.

“Ack, HAHA! Mabel n-no, no please AHAHAHA,” he protested, writhing in self defense. Instinctively he grabbed at her foot-one of her own tickle weak spots-but then let back go when she squawked and whined. “Oh, shoot I’m sorry Mabes,” he immediately apologized, frowning at her. She shook her head.

“No worries, just, nngghh, kinda tender still,” she pouted, wiggling the foot around on the table. Her sullen expression told him everything, really; tickle fights were one of their as-of-yet unbroken sibling bond traditions. Her being unable to participate fully was likely eating her up inside. He mulled things over in his head for a second or two, then patted his lap.

“Here, gimme a foot,” he said. Mabel’s expression went from one kind of upset to another, almost… embarrassment? Hesitation? “I’m not gonna tickle you, I wanna help,” he offered, opening a hand and curling his fingers in a come-hither motion. After a few seconds of what looked to be inner turmoil, she swiveled, placing a foot in his lap.

 _Okay, Dipper, don’t freak out over this. You’re just doing this because you don’t like seeing Mabel hurt, right? Nothing to do with wanting to rub at her soft soles or dainty toes, yeah. Just, just brotherly concern and affection!_ He repeated the mantra over and over in his mind as one hand cupped under her heel, the other wrapping softly around the feminine foot and digging his thumb into the underside of the pad. She hissed, and he relented immediately but she shook her head with a ‘nuh-uh’.

“Sorry, j-just, a little more gentle, at first, please,” she piped up, giving the foot in his grasp a soft wiggle. With a nod he went back to his task, thumb pressing down again. He rubbed in slow, deliberate circles, applying more and more pressure until he heard her choke out a pleased sigh. “Oooohhh maaan,” she moaned, which forced him to pause momentarily. _Keep your head out of the gutter dude, it wasn’t that kind of moan!_

Dipper wasn’t the only one lying to himself. As soon as the sound had left her mouth, Mabel had bitten her tongue to stop another like it from following suit. _Ugh, gawd Mabel don’t go making noises like that! You’re gonna gross him out._ She pouted a bit as she stared down at her foot, which her loving bro-bro was so diligently working the kinks out of. _Y-yeah, can’t gross out the Dippingsauce and lose the magical feeling of his wonderful hands digging into-nyyoooohhhhmygod that feels amazing._

The second moan forced Dipper to pause and cough a bit. “Am, am I going too rough or something?” he asked hesitantly, taking the moment with his distracting question to clamp his own legs together. Mabel shook her head hurriedly, pushing her foot into his hands.

“N-no, just, feels really good, feet hurt and all,” she stammered, the toes flexing pleadingly for more. Silently, her brother obliged, both thumbs now working from arch to toes on the bottom of her foot. She sighed a wavering breath, going a little limp as she pulled her other leg up to squeeze her own thighs together. Her currently un-rubbed foot came to rest on his knee, toes gripping the fabric of his jeans loosely.

In an effort to ignore all of the vocalizations his sister was making, those damnable, adorable, _alluring_ noises, he poured his focus into the task at hand. His thumbs pressed out against ball of her foot, rubbing in slow circles to ease the tension out. He repeated this process a few times, then very very gently started to work on her toes. He pulled on each one until it gave a sharp POP! causing his sister to hiss with relief every time, flexing them experimentally. Setting that foot down, satisfied with his job, he picked up the next and started to work on it in much the same manner. She purred, her now-massaged foot placing itself against his thigh and gently rubbing back and forth. “Good gawd Dipp where did you learn to do this,” she grumbled, the foot he held now giving a small twist at her ankle. He chuckled nervously.

“Oh, yanno, a teenager with the internet can learn all sorts of things,” he muttered, turning beet red. “NOT LIKE TH-” he started, but she burst into a giggle fit.

“Less embarrassed talk about your gross internet history, more foot-rubs,” she insisted, bouncing the foot in his grasp. He just nodded and went back to rubbing, trying to forget the slip of his tongue he’d just endured. After a few more minutes of quiet, save for his sister’s whimpers and gasps as parts of her foot popped in his grasp, he noticed that her other foot kept creeping a little further into his lap. Rubbing along the top of his thigh. He viced his legs together now, trying to mentally destroy the un-brotherly reaction he was having to her voice.

“Aaaand there!” he shakily announced as he finished with her foot. “Feeling better?” To his reluctant relief-he tried to decide if that was a real thing-she pulled her feet away and placed them on the floor. She grunted with mild discomfort, pushing some of her weight down experimentally before nodding.

“You are a miracle worker,” she said, flopping to lean on his shoulder as she took a hold of his wrist and turned his hand palm-up to stare at it. “You sure you don’t have some sort of secret spell you were casting to make that work so good?” she mused aloud, fingernail tracing over the creases on his open hand. He shook his head.

“N-nope, just good old determination and elbow grease!” he announced, fingers flexing. _Mabel what are you DOING to me?_ As if on cue she lifted her head to look up at him, and their eyes locked onto one another’s. It was suddenly as if somebody had switched on a tractor beam between them, because they started to both lean inwards, lips parting, one chocolate gaze of appreciation never leaving the other and-

_**DING DONG!** _

Both twins shouted, swiftly sitting apart. “Pizza!” Dipper half yelled, breaking their eye contact first to sit up and fish money from his pocket. “Yeah, pizza’s here, food. Food is good.” He stood up, and with a stiff gait, marched to the door, answering and grabbing the box from the delivery driver with forced-yet-genuine thanks, then sitting the box down in front of his sister on the coffee table. “Gonna just, go grab plates and stuff. Pitt good for you?”

“Yeah, uh, sure,” she nodded, not daring to look him in the eye. _Mabel you almost just smooched your bro bro. And after you kept moaning and squirming while he rubbed your feet! Ohmygod why am I so groooosssss,_ she grumbled, burying her face in her hands until Dipper sat her plate and can of soda in front of her.

They both ate in silence for a bit, each mentally wrestling with the ramifications of what had just transpired, unaware that the other was doing the same. Once they’d eaten their fill, Dipper silently took her plate and empty can and marched back off towards the kitchen. When he returned and sat down, he switched on the television before clearing his throat.

“So uh, you have practice again tomorrow, right?” he asked, and she nodded. _Duh Dipper, I have it every night until the recital,_ she groused internally. “So, pick you up tomorrow? And if your feet hurt, don’t hesitate to ask for help?” She felt her ears and cheeks flush a tiny amount, but she nodded with a small grin spreading over her face.

“Sure thing, Dip,” she mumbled warmly. He hugged her close, planting a soft smooch on her forehead. “I love you, bro.”

“I love you too, sis,” he replied, both watching the screen. Secretly, in tandem, they both shared a thought.

_More than you’ll ever know._


End file.
